


In The Beginning, There Was Some Confusion

by Felixia (acariad)



Series: Once Upon A - oh dear. [1]
Category: Fairy Tales and Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Crack, Gen, So much crack it hurts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-23
Updated: 2013-01-23
Packaged: 2017-11-26 14:11:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/651294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acariad/pseuds/Felixia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>...and a lot of chaos.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Well, she was sleeping at least.

 

 

Lia registered two things as she woke up.

One: her bed was a lot harder than usual. Two: someone was kissing her.

So she did what any sensible girl would do in a situation like this.

She screamed. And then promptly punched the person who, only a second ago, had been snogging the life out of her.

Now if that wasn’t bad enough, she also had no idea where she was. Stone walls? _Tapestries_? What in the name of… _Holy shit, life sucks._

“Who the _fuck_ are you?” she screeched as she scrambled to the farther side of the bed that clearly wasn’t her bed, “Why the _fuck_ are you molesting me, you creep, and WHERE THE _FUCK_ AM I?”

To the poor guy’s credit, he didn’t seem to be remotely offended by her language. He did however look somewhat shocked by her physical response, judging from the way he was clutching the side of his face with his mouth opening and closing like a goldfish.

Lia looked down at herself. Oh dear gods, what was she… oh. Hmm. Well, she did like pretty dresses. So at least this part wasn’t so bad. Ooohh, and she got to wear pretty slippers too!

_…Oh shit. What if this creep was into roleplaying?_

She looked back at the guy. He stared back at her.

Well.

“Okay, so this is getting awkward…” she muttered to herself as she watched him watching her. _At least he’s hot,_ her brain supplied _. In a weird sort of medieval way. Y’know. With the sword and shield and the still half smoking cape he’s got on._

“You… punched me!” he spluttered finally. Lia rolled her eyes.

“Did you really expect something else? You were sexually assaulting me!”

“I do not understand,” he looked around in genuine confusion. “I have fought my way here to the tower for you, fair princess! I had to wake you up! For that, you needed true love’s kiss!”

“Jesus Christ, what do you think this is?” Lia screeches again. “An episode of Once Upon A Time?”

“An… episode? I don’t understand…” he blinked. “And my name isn’t Jesus. It’s Phillip.”

“Oh my god,” Lia groaned dramatically and slumped back onto the bed. _That’s it. I’m going back to sleep and never waking up again._

“Are you well, princess?” His concerned face appeared in her peripheral vision. She groaned again and covered her face.

“What the hell is going on?” she wailed from under her arm. The guy, or as we now know to be ‘Phillip’, takes a brave step forward and scoops her up in his arms. Lia jerked and flailed and screeched (like any sensible girl would do if a random dude who talked like a demented medieval knight picked them up in his gauntlet covered arms) and fell onto the floor with a dull thud. Phillip was backing away slowly now, his gaze just a little bit terrified as he watched Lia scramble away from him to the nearest window arch and let out a loud “WHAT THE ACTUAL SHIT IS THIS?” as she turned and saw the landscape before her.

He only stopped backing away when his back hit the stone wall behind him. Lia whirled around and fixed him with a glare.

“You,” she hissed, pointing her finger at him, “Answer me. Where am I? What am I doing here? We are not going ANYWHERE until you give me some answers, buddy. And don’t even _think_ about running.” 

 

 

 


	2. Maybe there was a fault in the genetics?

 

 

“Brother, wake up! How are you feeling?”

Eleven groaned and pressed a hand to his pounding temple. He was pretty sure this is what a hangover felt like. Except he’s never had one before. But he’s still pretty sure this is exactly how one felt like.

He sat up and looked around with bleary eyes. It took a few seconds for them to focus and he sees… A forest. He was in a forest.

Right.

Okay.

Perfectly normal, except Australia didn’t have forests like this and - _why on EARTH was he in a forest?_

Wait. _Brother_?

He looked towards his left. A blonde girl was kneeling next to him with a worried look on her face. Huh. Okay. _What on earth was she wearing?_ He looked down. _What on earth am I wearing?!_

_Okay. Stop. One thing at a time._

“Did you just call me ‘Brother’?" he finally muttered as he pushed himself to his feet, staggering slightly. The girl steadied him with her hand and gazed at him with a pout.

"Stop playing Hansel! You had me worried there when you wouldn’t wake up!"

... Er. _What_?

"I'm sorry, _Hansel_? As in your… brother? Hansel. Because you’ve got the wrong person here."

 “Yes, since that is your name and you are clearly my brother.” She squinted at him as if he was the crazy one. “Did you hit your head really hard when you slipped?”

_Nope. This wasn’t happening._

He was about to open his mouth and explain to this mentally-challenged girl that he was not her brother since a) he looked _nothing_ like her (Jesus Christ) and b) she clearly must be stupid to forget what her own brother looked like, but she latched onto his arm with a vice-like grip and dragged him further into the wood before he could get a word out.

Okay. So the day hasn’t gone off to a good start.

"Do you have any idea where you're leading me?" he asked apprehensively.

Gretel (he supposed her name was, since, y’know… _Hansel_ ) just tipped her nose in the air with a huff. “Yes, of course I do!”

“Really,” he said with as little enthusiasm as he could possibly muster. Also she seemed to have a grip like iron. _What is it with young girls and metal biceps?_

“What, don’t you trust me?” She turned and pouted again. Eleven looked at her, trying to hide the grimace that was threatening to appear on his face. God, he hated girls who pout.

“Oh _gee_ , I can’t possibly think of a _single_ reason why I don’t trust you,” he said. With _complete_ sincerity, of course.

“Good.” She continued in a general direction among the trees, dragging him along like a half-deflated helium balloon.

He took this chance to mentally analyse his situation.

One: He was in a forest somewhere with Gretel, who thinks he’s Hansel.

Two: He has no idea how he got here, or where ‘here’ even is.

Three: He was in a fucking forest in god-knows-where with a girl who may or may not be called Gretel (and who may or may not be bat-shit insane), who thinks he’s her brother and who may or may not be dragging him to certain doom.

_…Great._

Now all he has to do is figure out how to get out of this situation. And get his head around the fact that he is currently being dragged by _Gretel_.

As in ‘ _Hansel and Gretel’_ Gretel.

As in ‘ _fuck, we’re going to run across a gingerbread house right about… now’_ Gretel.

_Oh look._

_What great timing._

_Fuck everything._


End file.
